I Like My Quidditch Players
by TheLadySongSerenade
Summary: A Harry Potter oneshot. full summary inside kind of . Rated T for slight mention of shagging just to be on the safe side. RonXHermione


Hello, Harry Potter Fans. I am making a oneshot. I hope you like it. It's a conversation between Ron and Hermione at their wedding. Sorry if I mangle up the language, I have no inkling of an idea of how you say anything in English English- I mean, British English. So. Read and Review pleasies. And enjoy.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters… J.K. Rowling does. The stuff in bold is taken directly from Harry Potter 6!

"**Yes, I'm meeting Cormac at eight, and we're—"**

** There was a noise like a plunger being withdrawn from a blocked sink and Ron surfaced. Hermione acted as though she had not seen or heard anything.**

** "— we're going up to the party together."**

** "Comac?" said Parvati. "Cormac McLaggen, you mean?"**

** "That's right," said Hermione sweetly. "The one who **_**almost**_**"— she put a great deal of emphasis on the word —"Became Gryffindor Keeper."**

** "Are you going out with him, then?" asked Parvati, wide-eyed.**

** "Oh — yes — didn't you know?" said Hermione, with a most un-Hermione-ish giggle.**

** "No!" said Parvati, looking positively agog at this piece of gossip. "Wow, you like your Quidditch players, don't you? First Krum, then McLaggen…"**

** "I like **_**really good**_** Quidditch players," Hermione corrected her, still smiling. "Well, see you… Got to go and get ready for the party…."**

"Mrs. Weasley," Ron held his hand out to his new wife. "Would you care to dance?"

Hermione smiled up at her new husband. "I may, Mr. Weasley."

Ron led her out to the center of the floor. "You look amazing, Mrs. Weasley."

"_Ronald_," she rolled her eyes as they began to dance. "Stop calling me _Mrs. Weasley_, I feel like you're talking to your mother, not me."

"Right," Ron cleared his throat. "Sorry about that, Hermione."

Hermione just smiled and they continued dancing in silence.

Ron cleared his throat again. "You really do look quite lovely though," he said gruffly.

"Always the tone of surprise," she teased gently.

Ron paled and looked terrified. "What? No, I wasn't—"

Hermione laughed. "I was only joking."

Ron sighed and relaxed.

Hermione sighed too. "I wish they were here, you know," she said quietly so only he could hear her. "All of them, they should be here."

Ron nodded grimly. "I know, all of them: Tonks, Lupin, Fred…"

Hermione laid her head on his chest. "We can enjoy this night for them at least."

"Yeah," Ron shook himself out of his sorrowful daze. "Yeah, we can."

He looked around the magical, golden marquee, exactly identical to the one at Bill and Fleur's wedding. His eyes lighted on Harry Potter. He chuckled as he saw his best mate with a multitude of firewhisky bottles surrounding him. His high spirits (no pun intended) dropped when he saw the look on Harry's face.

"It looks like we're not the only ones remembering," he murmured into Hermione's hair.

Hermione lifted her head and gazed around, "Well of course," she said. "Who wouldn't—" she stopped speaking. "Oh, _Harry_."

Ron swallowed and nodded. "Do you reckon we should go talk to him?"

This time when Hermione spoke, her voice was tinged with amusement on top of the worry. "I don't think that's strictly necessary."

Ron looked back at Harry and scowled darkly. Miss Ginerva had taken it into her head that it was her duty to assist the poor wizard. Just now, she was leading Harry back to the house, alternately stopping to kiss him and wipe his forehead. "I think we should go after them," Ron started to walk off the dance floor.

Hermione grabbed his arm. "_Ronald_, you are so thick sometimes."

Ron looked at her, bewildered. "What?"

Hermione shook her head. "Obviously he's not in any mood for talking; she'll take care of him, clean him up, and have him sober in no time. It's more than you could do."

Ron scowled again. "Yeah, if you mean she'll make him sober by stripping so he'll shag her."

"Ronald!" Hermione was scandalized. "Who do you think your sister is?"

"My sister," Ron retorted.

"Exactly," Hermione countered. "Doesn't that count for anything? Give her some credit."

"Fine," Ron grumbled and the two danced silently again.

"Hermione?" Ron said randomly.

"Yes, Ron?" Hermione looked at him expectantly. She had suspected something was plaguing him. "What is it?"

"Why me, Hermione?" Ron looked lost and forlorn.

Hermione, amazingly enough, looked confused. "What? What do you mean?"

"Why did you marry me?"

Hermione laughed, then she realized he was serious. "That's what this is about?" When he nodded, still one hundred percent serious, she sighed. "I love you, Ronald Weasley. I always will. That's why I married you." She peered up at his face. "Does that suffice, dear?"

Ron nodded mutely. _I love you, too_, he thought.

Hermione smiled knowingly, knowing what he was thinking. She was a smart girl, unlike other girls, she didn't need him to say it. All the same, it couldn't hurt to have a little fun with him. "Besides," she said slyly. "I always did like my quidditch players."

Ron laughed, remembering the conversation that had infuriated him so long ago. "Only the really good quidditch players," he reminded her.

"Yes," Hermione murmured as the dance ended. "Only my very good, positively wonderful quidditch player."

Dun dun! Ta Da!!!!!! The end! You know, as much as I like writing, you know what I like even better? … REVIEWS!!!! So make me happy!!!!!! Thank you ever so much! Lolz. Xoxo ~Misty


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